The Contract Doctor Is In

Session # Three

The "relationship" between editors and writers is fascinating: mutually
fulfilling on occasion, holding fortunate rapport; and, on others, just
plain frustrating. There are the legendary tales of Maxwell Perkins/Thomas
Wolfe "marriage" or accord, of course, in which an editor actually enhances
(through relentless paring down or focus) the work of an author. And there's
the fascinating case of James Thurber and Harold Ross. Thurber himself was
first hired as an editor at the New Yorker (in days when, office
space and supplies at a premium, Dorothy Parker squelched Ross' criticism of
her not showing up to write a piece on time with her reply, "Somebody was
using the pencil"), and he went on to establish -- as a writer -- a
"growling bulldog and trembling poodle" relationship that would eventually
turn into solid friendship ("[Ross] was one of the closest and most
important persons in my life," Thurber wrote). Would that we all could be so
fortunate! Like ordinary foot soldiers or impressed sailors, or even
seasoned lovers, every writer has a tale to tell about her or his
relationship with an editor: the High Command or Superior Officers of our
trade. Tales of woe, or tales of workable relations. Cross-purposes or
co-operation. And what writer has not submitted an article or even a book
length manuscript, had it approved and accepted for publication, only to
discover -- once the thing is staring you in the face, in print, indelible
-- that the work bears disturbingly little resemblance to what was
originally submitted?

One of my favorite instances of such discrepancy occurred when, doing reviews
of jazz performances for a local paper (I won't say where, just to protect
the not-so-innocent), I would find -- once they were printed -- that an
entire paragraph (or two!) had been stripped away in favor of an ad sold to
the Nu-Art Theater, an "adult" operation in town (which made it pretty clear
just what the publication's value system preferred). Or, when I was doing
book reviews for a major Midwestern paper, my editor (acting as censor) would
simply lop off any negative, or compromising, opinions I may have offered
regarding the work of an author soon coming to town on a book tour.

I don't intend -- using myself as guinea pig -- to fill this column with
personal horror stories (although I probably could!), but one of a writer's
worse nightmares is, involved in a large project (such as a book), having an
editor with whom one has worked compatibly (right up to the production
stages), suddenly leave the press for a better job elsewhere and turn the
project over to an editor who tells you, flat out, that he/she would never
have approved of the book in the first place. Ouch! And watch out for what
follows. Again, to protect the not-so-innocent, I won't mention any names,
but I think you can imagine the consequences of such an abrupt change. At
such a time, it may not hurt to call in a little help from your friends: in
some cases I've been told (sticking with the ypothetical, ho ho), an
excellent Grievance Officer with the National Writer's Union.
I don't think cases of editorial "abuse" or unwarranted "editing" abound, but
they do occur; so just what can a writer do to protect oneself from them?
Well, lots, but it's best to make provisions for yourself, to protect
yourself or take up "preventive medicine" (so to speak), before any
infraction -- that is, beyond-the-call-of-duty editing -- takes place. There
is not, unfortunately, all that much you can do after, unless you are
willing to file a grievance. And this brings us back to contracts, which,
properly negotiated should safeguard against and allow you to avoid any such
instances of unwarranted or unanticipated editorial infringement.

We've already discussed copyright (making sure its yours, and getting it
properly registered). Actually, on the latter score, it should be -- in a
good book contract -- up to the publisher to not only register the copyright
("in compliance with U.S. copyright law") but guarantee that "every copy of
the Work" will include a copyright notice "in the Author's name," including
all editions of the Work issued by licensees. Once again, copyright is an
excellent reminder (for everyone concerned) that The Work is truly
yours, with regard to both content and style.

I should more than likely devote a separate column to the tricky matter of
subsidiary rights (and I will someday), but let's move on to what can be done
to insure that the manuscript you submit to an acquisitions editor, once the
work has been "accepted" (which does not guarantee, unfortunately, that it
will end up in print), will -- if and when it does end up in print -- bear a
favorable resemblance to what you wrote. In the National Writers Union
Guide to Book Contracts (available to NWU members; but excellent
information can also be found in the National Writers Union Freelance
Writers' Guide, available to everyone, and a book I highly recommend for all
practitioners of our art), these matters come up under "Manuscript Delivery"
(or in Philip Mattera's fine "Building a Better Book Contract," under "The
Manuscript and the Book" specifically, in the Freelance Writers'
Guide).

A contract should stipulate the estimated length of the manuscript to be
delivered, but watch out that you don't get caught in a discrepancy between
page length and word count (as I once did, the editor pointing out that their
manuscript pages contained fewer words than mine, and demanding that I remove
a substantial portion -- 35,000 words! -- of the work). "Permissions" are
important, obviously (you will not be allowed to retain what hasn't been
approved for use); but most important of all is actual contract language
stating that, once editorial guidelines have been established (and get those
in writing! so that you'll have a substantial "paper trail" to prove
that -- should you find it necessary to do so; and no matter what any
subsequent editor might claim -- you have been following the initially
prescribed editorial guidelines), no "substantive changes" can be made to the
final manuscript "without the consent of the author." Contracts generally
attach a clause regarding "Production" considerations, stating the
publisher's right to copyedit the manuscript to make it conform to "accepted
standards of spelling, grammar," etc., but I'd try to get language that makes
it clear that, with regard to the entire editing process that leads to
production, "substantive changes" cannot be made without your approval.

And, should the submitted manuscript be found "unsatisfactory," a good
contract will require the publisher to present a detailed written
statement of "perceived deficiencies" (with a clause stating that the
publisher will convey such comments, regarding "acceptability," within a
specific time frame; say, 60 days of manuscript delivery). An editor's
desired revisions should be clearly, specifically, conveyed; and
mutually agreed upon -- along with a "mutually acceptable deadline for
the
delivery of the revised manuscript." That way you can protect yourself
against any (and hopefully all) unpleasant surprises that might appear once
the book is in print.

Can anything be done about a sudden change in editors? Of course.

You can build a clause into the contract that states that, if at any time
during the writing, editing or production of the Work, the acquiring editor
(and cite name) departs (becomes "disassociated from the Work for any
reason"), the previously approved editorial guidelines will be adhered to,
will remain in effect with the new editor or, should push come to shove and
the situation grow unbearable, you can terminate the contract with some
measure of aplomb (but more than likely not your "advance," unless you fight.

Another area that writers tend to overlook is "Production decisions," or
creative control: the most important of which is the dust jacket copy or
advance "pitch" for the book (make sure that it's aligned with what
you feel is most important, and most marketable, about the work).

You can also go for a clause that gives you consultation rights and
guarantees that "all creative decisions" (including cover design) shall be
subject "to the approval of the author."

Does the same hold true for standard journalism contracts? Not in terms of
"scope," obviously, and periodical editors or publishers may attempt to
convince you that they haven't time, once an article is assigned, for such
considerations (even though they may miraculously find time -- perhaps too
much time -- to delay printing the piece). But a solid journalism contract
should provide provisions for (1) printing and payment within a set
time frame after "initial receipt" of the assigned article, (2) a
clear stipulation of subsidiary rights the publisher retains, and
those which you shall keep (especially "electronic reproduction"), and
a guarantee that the publisher/editor will make "every reasonable effort" to
make the final, edited version of the article available to you for approval
"while there is still time to make changes."

Journalism contracts would more than likely make a good, suitable, and
important topic for discussion at our next sesssion at our next session,
don't you think? Until then, the Contract Doctor is "in" again, and any
responses to or questions about what has been presented here will be
appreciated -- and responded to.